Spring


Mouths open, screaming lilacs face the sun while
clouds of insects dance above,

the uncertain spirals
like living stars,
first blinking then fading away.

Two willows, arms entwined,
hang above with closed eyes that
betray their indifference, the pair
lost on the edge of their first smile–

primed,

like walnut shells
poised to crack, ready to
tear their roots from the ground and
go running along the embankment.

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